Alden Lytton drank his coffee, remarking, with a smile, that it was very, very strong, in fact quite bitter in its strength.
And when he had finished it he pushed the cup away, saying that it had quite satisfied him and deprived him of the inclination to take anything else.
As he said this he looked at his companion, and noticed for the first time the ghastliness of her countenance.
"Mrs. Grey, are you ill?" he inquired, in some alarm.
"No; only fatigued from that railway journey. The train always shakes me into a jelly," she answered, shivering.
"How very delicate you are, poor child! It is a great pity you should ever be called to bear any of the roughness of life. And when my dear Emma and I have a home together we must take care to shield you from all that," he said.
And then he sank into a sudden silence, while she watched him closely.
"Will _you_ not take anything?" she inquired.
"No, thank you. That coffee was no doubt very fine; but it was a bitter draught, and it has taken away my appetite for anything else," he answered, with a smile and a half-suppressed yawn.
"Oh, yes; quite well; never better in my life!" he answered, putting his hands on his lips to conceal an irrepressible yawn.
"No, only deliciously sleepy, as if I would like to go to sleep and never wake up again," he said, with a laugh and a smothered gape.
"Then do not stand on ceremony with an old friend like me. Bid me good-night and go at once," she said.
"I am too tired to go to sleep yet. I shall sit in that rocking-chair and rock gently. That motion will soothe and rest me better than anything else, and after an hour I shall be able to go to bed and go to sleep."
As Mary Grey spoke, Alden Lytton staggered to his feet and tottered toward her, held out his hand and faltered, drowsily:
"I am forced to take your advice. I must retire at once or I shall not be able to reach my room. I never felt so over-powered by sleep in all my life before. Good-night, my dear Mrs. Grey. I hope that you will sleep as well as I am sure that I shall. Good-night."
He pressed her hand, and then, groping like a blind man, he passed into his own room and shut the door behind him.
Mary Grey gazed breathlessly at the closed door for a while, murmuring to herself: